Pulled From The Wreckage
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: Ianto got a little bruised up on a mission, so Jack takes him home for a night in. Janto, slash. Oneshot. Just a little hurtcomfort and fluff.


**Title: **Pulled From The Wreckage

**Author: **Indigo Night

**Summary: **Ianto got a little bruised up on a mission, so Jack takes him home for a night in.

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **Janto

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Torchwood or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

**Spoilers: **None.

**Warnings: **Slash, bruising, bad taste in movies?

**Author's Note: **Dedicated to Becca who gave me the prompt. Your enthusiasm inspires me, I hope you like it :D Read, Review,

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Ianto had been staring at the same half empty coffee cup for at least ten minutes. He just stood there and stared, blinking slowly. He wasn't really sure why he was staring at the coffee cup, except that he had the vague notion he'd meant to do something with it. It was one of Tosh's cups, with little pink stripes.<p>

He shifted slightly and had to bite back a gasp as his arm gave a spasm of pain. A sling he'd it against his chest, on the theory that would prevent him from moving it and exacerbating the pain. Owen had assured him it wasn't broken, just dislocated and badly bruised, topped off with a mild concussion.

He started when a hand landed on his good shoulder.

"Time to go home," Jack ordered him gently.

He looked around, vaguely surprised to find that at some point it had gotten darker and everyone else had left. He must have been staring at the coffee cup for longer than he'd thought.

"Yes sir," he murmured automatically. He tried to shake himself out of his daze, but that only made his arm hurt again so he quickly stopped. His daze did clear a bit however when Jack's hand unexpectedly found its way into his pocket. "Wha-?" he half exclaimed in surprise.

Jack withdrew his hand, jiggling Ianto's keys. "Come on," he said, with his usual smirk in response to Ianto's indignant look, "I'm driving you home."

"That really isn't necessary," Ianto protested, though ineffectively. He felt vaguely dizzy and nauseous at the same time, and the more Jack talked about home the more appealing the thought of his bed was.

"Yeah," Jack retorted, "It is." He was already striding off, twirling Ianto's keys; the Welshman had no choice but to follow him.

Ianto stumbled a little as he stepped through the cog door, the dizziness taking hold for a moment. But almost before he'd even registered the misstep himself Jack was there steadying him.

Jack peered into his face, eyes narrowed. "Owen really did give you the good stuff," he observed.

"I'm okay," Ianto asserted, straightening himself with an effort. And he was, he was fine, the world around him was spinning a little faster than usual, but he was fine.

Jack gave him a knowing look that said he wasn't fooled at all, but they proceeded without further incident. Though Jack continued to hover a little closer than necessary, just in case.

As soon as they made it outside the air hit Ianto in a frigid rush. He'd forgotten it was December and his suit had been ruined, leaving him in only the t-shirt and slacks he kept at the Hub for just such circumstances. It was a very thin t-shirt. He hunched his shoulders and wrapped his good arm around himself; it wasn't terribly far to his car.

Of course nothing got past Jack. "I told you to keep better clothes here," he chided.

Ianto was going to shrug it off and once against assert that he was fine, but before he could he was surprised to feel a solid weight settling around his shoulders. Suddenly he was surrounded by wool and warmth and the scent that was so purely Jack. There was no one else in the world with a smell like that. His fingers caught the edge of the coat and held it in place automatically. He blinked at Jack in touched and caught off guard, but Jack was strolling along ahead of him, his expression placid and unconcerned.

Ianto hurried a little to keep up. He felt significantly better, so warm and comfortable in the woolen depths of Jack's coat; he even felt a little less dizzy.

They reached his car, which Jack unlocked and held the door open for him. Feeling steadier on his feet, Ianto spared the energy to raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you turning into a gentleman on me, Jack?" he accused suspiciously.

"I'm not totally devoid of romance," Jack teased. Once Ianto was settled he closed the door and hurried around to the driver's side.

Ianto really hadn't meant to, but somehow in the time it took Jack to move from the passenger door to the driver's Ianto had slid down his seat and all but burrowed into the folds of Jack's coat. Jack smiled when in noticed, but didn't comment.

On the whole their drive to Ianto's flat was quiet. The radio was on and Jack hummed along absently while Ianto dozed, hovering somewhere just on the edge between sleep and waking.

When they arrived Jack bundled Ianto out of the car and inside. He eased Ianto down onto the couch and knelt to inspect him. "Your pupils are still uneven," he observed, "How do you feel?"

"Drugs are wearing off," he grunted back. He felt less dizzy; the hazy numbness from before fading, but the pain was growing in both his arm and his head.

"I've got some painkillers," Jack assured, "You should be fine to sleep now." He tried to lever Ianto back up off the couch, but Ianto resisted with a brief, painful shake of his head.

"Not yet," he murmured. As appealing as the idea of snuggling down between his sheets and sleeping for a mouth was, he didn't want to yet. As soon as Jack got him settled Jack would leave, taking his coat and his warmth and his scent with him.

Jack was about to insist, but he reconsidered and shook his head. "Okay," he agreed, "Not yet." He looked around the small flat, neat and sensible and oh so Ianto. "Are you hungry? I didn't see you eating any of the pizza."

Ianto moved to shake his head again, but stopped wincing; he really needed to stop that. He wasn't hungry at all, in fact he still left vaguely nauseous.

Jack nodded, but stood and went into the kitchen anyway. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and two small pills. He handed them to Ianto and supervised while he took them.

Ianto knew he should just tell Jack he was fine and let the man leave, but irrational and selfish as it may have been, he desperately didn't want to Jack to go. Silence fell and he tried to think of something to say, some excuse to keep Jack here.

"You know, it's been a long time since I spent a night on the couch watching movies with a cute guy," Jack mused, meandering over to Ianto's shelves. There was something in his ever so casual manner that made Ianto suspect Jack understood perfectly what he was thinking.

"I don't have much," he muttered, vaguely embarrassed.

Nevertheless Jack perused the shelves for a few moments before turning back to Ianto with a nonplussed look. "Documentaries. All you have are documentaries. Every single one."

Ianto blushed a little but shrugged noncommittally. He wasn't about to defend his viewing choices, let Jack judge. He liked learning things; there was nothing wrong with that.

Jack pursed his lips, but picked up a DVD on the Fall of Rome. "Fun times," he mused as he put it into the player. Ianto watched him move without protest, once again starting to feel that hazy disconnect from reality, though this time he didn't think it was because of the drugs. Jack was seriously about to sit on the couch and watch a film with him, it was almost like something a couple would do. Their relationship, if that was even the right word for it, was almost entirely based around sex, flirting, and hunting aliens.

He sat awkwardly, still wrapped in Jack's coat despite the fact that the heater in his flat was on, while Jack sat languidly next to him. He tried to keep his attention on the screen, but couldn't stop himself from sending the occasional furtive glance at the man beside him.

For his part, Jack looked completely relaxed; if he was feeling awkward or uncertain in the slightest it didn't show. He reclined casually on the couch as though he'd grown from it, one arm resting along the back behind Ianto. He smirked when he noticed Ianto looking and leaned in closer. "Relax," he whispered in Ianto's ear, letting his arm drop from the back of the couch to around the Welshman's shoulders. Careful of his injury, Jack pulled Ianto until his head rested on Jack's shoulder. He kissed the top of Ianto's head reassuringly. "Just relax."

Ianto blushed but very quickly gave in and let himself melt into the comfortable warmth of Jack. He watched the screen as Rome burned, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused. The words of the narrator flowed around him in a meaningless blur as he listened to the steady rhythm of Jack's heart.

_This is nice_… he thought vaguely, not even realizing that his eyes had closed completely and his head had slid slowly from Jack's shoulder to his lap. He didn't notice when Jack resettled the coat around his shoulders, though he did snuggle more deeply into it. Ianto didn't really notice when Jack starting running his fingers through his hair either, but fresh waves of security and contentment washed through him.

He floated there for a long time, in a numb cloud of warmth and safety, blissfully unaware. The spell broke however when muted screams and crashing from the television speakers filtered into his subconscious and stirred entirely too recent memories.

_He fired repeatedly until the clip was empty… but every bullet just bounced off its tough outer shell… the others were firing too… they all dodged its flailing limbs frantically… giant scorpion thing, whatever it was… calling to each other… instructions… words of warning… curses…_

_He barely dodged a swipe of its tail… the tail crashed into a support pillar… smashing the concrete column like a twig… he barely saw it coming… there was no time to move…_

_Then he couldn't move… he was pinned… surrounded by debris… he couldn't see… something wet and red covered his eyes… panic set in… he was being crushed… he couldn't breathe…_

_It felt as though hours passed… he struggled for every breath… fading in and out…_

_The others were there… around him… talking… moving things… it hurt… he cried out... someone found his hand and held it, trying to reassure him… _

_He blinked through the film obscuring his eyes… breath coming in tight gasps… relief washed through him… Jack's face was hovering over him… smirking, arrogant bastard… assuring… his mouth was moving… he was talking…_

"Ianto," Jack's voice came again, more firmly, "Wake up. It's okay."

He jerked, shivering as he passed from dream to reality. The room was dark, lit only by the static blue light of the TV; he'd missed the end of the documentary, not that he'd really watched any of it. He was blinking up from Jack's lap groggily, his head fuzzy and mouth tasting like cotton.

"Nightmare?" Jack asked, his fingers running soothing lines through Ianto's hair.

"Memory," he answered quietly, his heart rate slowly evening out to normal.

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry," he said softly, "I should have taken the time to figure out what we were up against. You shouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Occupational hazard," Ianto murmured, pressing his head just a little into Jack's touch. He'd chosen this life, this job, this man, and he didn't regret it.

"Still," Jack started, but Ianto put a finger to his lips to stop him. Jack narrowed his eyes slightly, but then relaxed and kissed the offending finger instead. "Ready for bed?" he said instead, changing the subject.

Ianto nodded, sitting up carefully. His head ached but thankfully the world around him more or less stayed where it belonged. Jack wrapped an arm around him as he shuffled into the bedroom and helped him undress before holding back the sheets and easing Ianto under them.

Ianto sank gratefully into his bed, exhaling a soft sigh of contentment as his head hit the pillow. Jack tucked the sheets securely around him. Assured that Ianto was settled Jack turned to go, but the Welshman reached out and caught his wrist, blinking up at him in the dim light.

"Don't go," he whispered. Normally he probably wouldn't have said it, but he was already half asleep again and the bed felt entirely too large and empty with just him in it.

Jack hesitated, but after a moment nodded. "I'll be right back," he promised. Carefully prying his wrist from Ianto's grip he left the bedroom. He ran a quick check through the flat, making sure the door was locked, turning off the TV, filling a glass with water and grabbing a few more pills for when Ianto woken the morning, making sure everything was in order.

Ianto, meanwhile, had curled up to wait. He'd almost convinced himself that Jack had in fact gone and left him when the man returned. Refusing to admit his relief even to himself, Ianto watched as Jack stripped down and slid into the bed.

Too tired to worry about decorum, Ianto pressed himself to Jack, relishing the feel of warm flesh against his. Jack tilted his head and kissed him gently, none of his usual heat or intent behind it.

"Goodnight, Ianto," he murmured.

"Goodnight," Ianto replied quietly as he drifted off to sleep, warm and secure in Jack's arms.


End file.
